


dear to the heart

by honeycombkiss



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Unplanned Pregnancy, more like a pregnancy fic, so this is a sorta kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycombkiss/pseuds/honeycombkiss
Summary: Gamora had spent years believing that Thanos had taken this decision away. Not the biological option of this scenario, but the emotional capacity. But hadn’t she thought the same thing about falling in love? Or building a family? Maybe Thanos had taken everything. Maybe she was unfit for this new role. But more importantly, did she even want to try? Thanos hadn’t destroyed her ability to choose.





	dear to the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this little story. I had half of this written in February, and I finished the rest in the past week or so. I would love to add onto this if anyone is interested. This story takes place Post-Vol 2 but ignores the major plot points in both Infinity War and Endgame. For this story, just pretend this is a world post-Thanos' death, in whatever way that is.

Gamora had been ignoring her body for several days. Or more accurately, her body had communicated with her mind and she was choosing to ignore it. Although she knew she couldn’t ignore it forever, she spent three or four day-cycles lying to herself. A part of her hoped that maybe it was wrong. Maybe she was confused.

Her world had crashed around her when she was forced to acknowledge the terrifying truth. The tiny yet somehow strong heartbeat was loud in her own conscious mind. Being a tuned with the heartbeats of those around her was nothing out of the ordinary. But _this_ was something entirely new. Gamora couldn’t focus on anything but the taunting sound.

Gamora knew—without a doubt—that she was pregnant. Her physiology had alerted her mind to begin allocating nutrients for the tiny, growing embryo. She had been aware of its presence for nearly a week. And somehow, she knew the little person was forming into a girl. She could just _sense_ it. _Mothers intuition_ , she’d heard Peter say before. (But then he was describing his own mothers’ abilities. And Gamora didn’t think she’d ever be on par with her.)

While she knew it was true, she decided to ignore it for a little while longer. Until when, she had no idea. Maybe until she knew what to do. If she ever knew what to do. Each and every scenario played through her mind on a loop. And not a single one sounded plausible in her own mind. Some were alright, until she remembered the only variable in the entire equation was Peter. She knew almost certainly that Peter would want to keep and raise their baby. He was sentimental. Family was important to him. Although Groot was already a teenager, Peter had loved raising and spoiling him. The entire team had.

Groot was their team baby. They didn’t need another one.

 

Sleeping had become nearly nonexistent. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could perfectly hear and feel the heartbeat of the fetus. Although Peter snoozed beside her, the darkness of their room haunted her.

However, after the long mission they’d finally completed that day she was able to quickly fall asleep, her mind crashing as soon as her head hit the pillow. Sleep brought no peace, though. Instead, she woke from the nightmares that she’d suffered from all week.

There were many nightmares that cycled throughout the night. In one, she and Peter are too inadequate to raise their daughter. The child grows to be insufferable, rude and spiteful. Peter and Gamora fight constantly about their daughter’s behavior, until it finally tears them apart. Peter takes their daughter and flees. Gamora dies alone.

In another nightmare, Thanos is alive. He comes for Gamora and her daughter. When he finds them, he takes them captive. Aboard his ship, he gains endless knowledge and support from Gamora after he tortures her daughter.

Sometimes, Groot leaves the Guardians in her dreams because he feels that they chose the new baby over him. That one breaks Gamora’s heart just as they all do.

That night, when Gamora awoke she was pouring sweat, panting to regain her breath. Before Peter could wake, she rushed to their bathroom to dry heave. Nothing came up but saliva and sadness.

In this nightmare, their daughter had been killed in a mission. Gamora had failed to protect her. There was nothing she could’ve done to stop it. Everything happened so quickly, and the all-consuming sadness had driven the dream-Guardians apart. Gamora had the sudden urge to check in on everyone, to watch them breathe in their sleep. It sounded absurd even to herself, but the anxiety would not ebb away.

She didn’t get up from the bathroom floor. Instead, she sat in her own misery. Her stomach wouldn’t settled, and her body felt much too hot. Sweat still dripped down her temples. Gamora was composure and strength, and yet she sat against the toilet, her mind running in circles.

Her body tired from the stress she had subjected it to. But she couldn’t allow herself to fall asleep. Someone finding her here would ruin everything. She had to keep up her façade until she could make a decision. She had to make a decision. She couldn’t allow this to take over and ruin her life. The life she had fought for. The life she had chosen.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she picked herself up off the floor. She’d dry heaved some more, and then tried to block out her thoughts. She was tired of thinking of the fetus and all of the many ways things could be ruined.

As she climbed back into bed, Peter reached over to wrap his arm around her waist, hauling her close to his warm and sleepy form. Any other night, she would’ve snuggled close and let sleep wash over her. Tonight, sleep felt like a stranger. There wasn’t anything she could do to combat her mind. Peters presence reminded her of her selfishness. She was attempting to make a decision that would affect both of them. All the while he was oblivious.

 

At the end of the sleep cycle, Gamora climbed out of their bed. Luckily, she didn’t stir Peter. She hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Instead, she’d been forced to listen to the fetus’ heartbeat on a constant loop. She was sleep-deprived and anxious. There was only one person she could trust to help her solve this problem.

Gamora grabbed her holo and tiptoed up into the common area. No one else was around, though she knew it wouldn’t last long. Drax rarely slept in, and Mantis was nearly always first awake. Afraid that someone would overhear, or that Peter may accidently see the message, she began writing to Nebula in a code she never thought she’d use again. Thanos had taught his children the dead language of his homeworld. No one else in the galaxy could understand it, which made it perfect for secret correspondence.

She wrote quickly, sending the message within minutes. Nebula didn’t usually respond right away. She was on a mission. After the death of Thanos, she had begun hunting down any sympathizers or people who had somehow aided in Thanos’ tyranny. She visited the Guardians from time to time, but mostly she worked alone.

Gamora read the message over again, before slipping the holo into her pocket and heading towards the kitchen.

_‘Nebula, I urgently need your help. Please respond as quickly as possible. –Gamora’_

X

Two days passed before a coded message from Nebula came in. Gamora, luckily, had been seated in the common area alone when it came through. Her heart beat out of control, as she opened it and began deciphering the code. She hadn’t read it in so long.

_‘Is everything okay? I was shocked to receive a message in father’s old code. You haven’t written to me in this code since we both lived under father’s choke hold. Send me the Benatar’s coordinates and I’ll come immediately. -N’_

Gamora held her breath as she typed another coded message to Nebula.

_‘Thank you, Nebula. I need something that I think only you can find a location of. I need information on my species. I’ll explain everything when you arrive. Just you and I will take your ship and locate the information I need. No one else can know of this mission. I will tell the others that you need my assistance. See you soon, G’_

After she was sure the message had sent, she went searching for Peter. She found in him the pilots seat, dozing in and out of sleep. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, waking him. He smiled dopily up at her. “Hey, babe,”

“Nebula needs me,” the words slipped out before she could stop them. She cursed herself for talking without a fully formulated plan. “She’s coming here.”

“Oh okay, yeah we can meet up with Nebula-”

“You don’t understand,” Gamora cut him off, the lie tasting foul in her mouth. “It’s important to Nebula that it be just me.”

Worry and hurt flashed across Peter’s face. “Come on, we don’t split up.”

“I have to do this for Nebula.” She lied. She wrapped her arms defensively around her stomach, as if she could better hide her lie.

“I get that,” Peter said. “But we can keep the others behind, you and I go help your sister, don’t you want back up?”

“I appreciate your concern,” Gamora assured him, the sick feeling of regret and guilt lining her insides. “But it’s just a week. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I doubt that. I’ll totally know you’re gone the entire time,” he grumbled. She reached for his hand, holding it between her two. She squeezed once then twice.

“I promise, Peter,”

X

Nebula arrived a day later. Gamora didn’t allow a homecoming. Instead she grabbed her bag, kissed Peter’s cheek and waved goodbye to the other Guardians.

Gamora settled into the copilot chair and looked out into endless space. Neither Nebula nor Gamora spoke until the _Benatar_ was out of sight. Nebula focused on piloting the ship, while Gamora stared down at her lap.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or…?” Nebula glanced up at Gamora.

“I’m pregnant,” Gamora shuttered as the words fell from her lips. She hadn’t said it out loud yet. Now it had to be true, if Nebula knew.

Nebula didn’t say anything, forcing Gamora to look up at her. She looked stunned. Concern and something else crossed her features.

“Pardon?”

“I didn’t think it was possible,” Gamora said instead of having to admit it again. “I didn’t know my body was capable after my modifications.”

“Neither did I.” Nebula agreed.

“I don’t know what to do,”

“Does Quill know?”

“No,”

Nebula laughed, though it sounded incredulous and unkind. “You haven’t told Quill, and yet you’re trusting me?”

“Of course,” Gamora fixed her with a glare. “You are my sister. Only you understand the horror of my childhood.”

Nebula nodded.

“So you understand why I have to end this.”

Nebula looked baffled. “End it?”

“I cannot raise a child, Nebula!”

Nebula didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, she glanced back out into the stars as they sped past them. “I suppose not.”

“So you agree that I must end it?” Gamora pressed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you think?” Gamora was frustrated, allowing her anger to spill into her voice. Nebula could be difficult, but it really didn’t seem like the time.

“I think that it is a decision you have to make.”

Gamora threw her head back, hitting the back of the chair. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll support you, sister.” Nebula said. “That is all I can offer.”

Silence enveloped the ship. Neither sister said anything for a while. Gamora was once again alone in her mind. There was still the fetus’ heartbeat, her enhancements echoing the noise throughout her mind. She was stuck. Foolishly, she had thought that Nebula would be able to solve the problem. She hadn’t wanted to make the decision alone.

“I found a library,” Nebula broke the silence. “It has books with the information you are looking for.”

“Thank you,”

X

They landed easily at the docking port. Nebula shut the ship off and looked to Gamora. She seemed to search her features.

“I meant it,” Nebula spoke. “That I will support you. You have been acting foolish, Gamora. You let your heart rule over reason. I didn’t realize that I too, allowed my emotions to control my actions. You have never mocked me for this. You would be a great mother.”

Gamora looked away. She hadn’t expected anything from Nebula, especially not kindness nor reassurance. Though it wasn’t unwelcome, she didn’t know what to do with the new information. Especially since she disagreed.

“Thank you, Nebula,” she murmured, before getting to her feet. “Let’s go get the book.”

 

The ancient library held the books they were looking for. Basic biology and physiology of nearly every species in the galaxy sat on the shelves in front of them. Nebula didn’t waste a second, quickly throwing open the first book titled Zen Whoberi. Gamora could only watch as Nebula flipped through several chapters before finding one on reproduction. A diagram of a womb stared Gamora down, and she recoiled, picturing her own child at that very moment, nestled beneath her skin.

“I’ve found it,” Nebula told her, turning towards her. Nebula wasn’t soft, but she wasn’t evil. She was staring Gamora down, though not unkindly. It was a mix of bewilderment and something Gamora couldn’t place.

“I didn’t think it was possible for me.” Gamora whispered.

“So you’ve said,”

“I still don’t understand.” Gamora sighed, her eyes searching the page before her. She knew it wouldn’t have every answer she wanted, but hopefully it had enough.

“Let’s discuss this back on my ship,” Nebula suggested, glancing around suspiciously.

“You’re right,” Gamora didn’t even protest when Nebula took the three volumes titled ‘Zen Whoberi’ and stuffed them in her bag. After all, Gamora was the last of her kind. No one else would need the books.

They walked quickly through the busy city streets. Everything was a hustle and bustle, though Gamora paid no attention. She focused on keeping her pace with Nebula’s, and not falling behind.

She didn’t want her mind to wander. Now that she was away from Peter, things felt so much darker. This was her decision, she knew, but it didn’t keep the guilt from eating her stomach. Without Peters reassuring smile and kind eyes, she felt lost. She hadn’t been away from him in years. They were a team, which was why she had to make this decision.

Once aboard Nebulas ship, Gamora stalked back to the cockpit and sat in the copilot seat. Nebula took the pilot seat. Neither spoke, though Nebula searched out the books once more. She leafed through the pages, finding the one they had looked at earlier. Gamora did her best to not look at her sister.

“The Zen Whoberi gestational period is eight months,” Nebula began reading. “The day of the infant’s birth is sacred. The new parents are surrounded by family and friends. Mothers intuition is strong and accurate. When it comes-”

“Nebula, stop.”

“It’s fascinating.”

“Please, Nebula,”

There is a heavy pause where neither sister speaks.

Finally, Nebula speaks, “Have you made up your mind, then?”

The mission had seemed so simple when she’d constructed it. She needed to learn what she was up against and then make a decision. The procedure was familiar, as it had been part of her training. But she had broken so much of her training, that even these things felt distant sometimes. While the decision seemed obvious, her heart ached.

But she was still pragmatic, concise, determined.

“Yes,”

“I’ll find you a doctor. Stay here,” Nebula crossed the room, and activated her holo. Before she could dismiss it, a message popped up from Peter.

_“Hey, Nebula. I hope everything’s going good. I haven’t heard back from Gamora, so please let me know if things are okay.”_

Gamora looked away, her heart aching with the guilt that hadn’t even begin to subside since the new life had begun growing inside of her. It was killing her.

Nebula didn’t look up, merely dismissed the message and began her search of an adequate doctor to perform the procedure. She slinked away from Gamora, lifting the holo to make a call.

For years Gamora had thought that Thanos had taken away her ability to have relationships. To have people who cared about her. To do more than survive. Peter and the other Guardians had come and proved her wrong; her life was immensely better because of it. But this, this felt too far, too heavy, too enormous for her to handle.

Selfishly, she was grateful that Nebula was with her. She wouldn’t break under emotion. She would be completely unbiased in helping Gamora. Nebula, Gamora had learned, wanted nothing more than for her sister to be happy. She did what she could, and Gamora always tried to do the same.

 

When Nebula returned, Gamora jumped from her seat, rushing over to her. Being left alone with her thoughts had not been the best idea.

“They can’t get you in for two days.”

“Okay,” Gamora nodded.

“I tried to persuade them into an earlier time slot,”

“That’s okay.” Gamora assured her. “Thank you.”

X

Two days passed in slow solitude. The sisters only left the ship to restock supplies. They talked well into the night cycle, and when Nebula retired to her quarters Gamora watched the town’s night life through the large windows. There were families and couples and ships coming and going. She shifted her focus from one person to another. Everything was so quiet; she desperately missed the music from the zune.

She hummed along to the melodies burned into her memory until the sun began rising across the horizon. A pinkish-orange hue filled the windowscape before her. Her view wasn’t enough, though, to really watch the town alight with a new day. She didn’t have the opportunity to see a lot of sun rises in space, and this one felt important. Quietly, she left the ship, walking towards the edge of the ship dock. The dewy air clung to her skin. She took a deep breath, focusing on walking and breathing.

When she allowed herself to think critically, it became apparent why the entire situation scared her. She’d never considered this situation possible. She’d never given it another thought. She’d never cared either way. She had never felt robbed of this experience. Nor had she ever been grateful to avoid it. It had never been on her radar. She had never formed an opinion about her own capability to be a mother. She had never imagined motherhood.

It seemed unfair—just as it did every time she thought about it—that she couldn’t even remember her own mother. Sometimes the list of things she’d lost felt entirely too long. The only anecdote to those feelings was comparing it to the list of things she’d gained. The world she’d created for herself.

Peter came to mind, as he always did when she made this mental list. He always stood at the top of the list of things to be grateful for.

(How had she thought she could do this alone? She and Peter had made this mistake together. And suddenly she didn’t want to handle it alone anymore. But wasn’t it a little too late for thoughts like that?)

The early sunshine cast rays all across the valley. Gamora squinted against the light, raising a hand to cover her eyes. The rays were warm against her skin, dancing across her vision. The early morning warmth enveloped her, but it only felt taunting. It didn’t comfort, nor keep her thoughts from wandering.

(Did it make her weak that she suddenly yearned to hear Peter’s voice? To share just one more piece of her life with him? To share with him a piece of life they had created together?)

She rushed aboard the ship, nearly running into her sister. Nebula gave her an incredulous look, gesturing towards the exit of the ship. “We’ve got to leave, Gamora.”

“I understand,” Gamora huffed, defensively rooting herself to the ground. “But I have to do something first.”

“You’ve had two days.”

“Nebula, I need ten minutes.” The sisters’ eyes locked into a staring battle, though neither would ever lose. It went against their training. Instead, Nebula growled and turned away.

“I don’t know why I even care. This is for you.” She squared her shoulders and left the room.

Finally alone, Gamora activated her holo and aggressively attempted to ignore the tightening in her chest.

(What would she even say? What was there _to_ say?)

The sounds of her holo attempting to connect to Peter’s seems to drag on forever, and yet she also curses at how quickly he picks up.

 _“Gamora, hey, how’s it going?!”_ Peter’s voice is both urgent and relieved, and Gamora cannot help the tears that fall down her face.

“Peter,” she chokes out, tears still falling freely.

_“Whoa, whoa, Gamora, is everything okay?!”_

“I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped, the guilt eating her away.

 _“Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”_ He tried to assure her, though she could hear fear laced in his voice.

“It’s not, and I’m sorry.”

 _“Whatever it is that’s wrong we can fix it, I promise.”_ His voice was tender, and she wished so badly she could hug him.

“I can’t even say it,” Gamora blubbered, feeling entirely ridiculous and yet still so overemotional.

 _“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you fix it,”_ she’d heard those words a thousand times before. _“Come on, Gamora, you gotta tell me,”_

Was there anything else she could do? She had called him, and he was begging to help. But he couldn’t help. And she was docked at some foreign planet wishing things weren’t so complicated.

“I’m pregnant,” she huffed, speaking through a harsh intake of breath.

 _“You’re ... wait, what?!”_ Peters voice is incredulous. _“How do you know?!”_

Gamora didn’t answer. Warm tears streaked down her cheeks by their own accord. She reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear, watching her fingers shake.

_“Gamora, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. This is so wonderful. I wasn’t really thinking about being a dad, but I think I’ll be okay at it. I mean, look at Groot! He’s turning out pretty okay.”_

“Peter, I don’t think I want to do this.” She murmured. She was going to be late to her appointment with the doctor at this rate. Nebula was waiting for her. She thought she knew what she was doing, but now. Now she’s gone and ruined it by telling Peter.

 _“Oh,”_ he says, letting out a heavy exhale. _“Yeah, okay, whatever you think is best.”_

“I don’t know.” Gamora admitted. There was fear and guilt and sadness and it was all jumbled up inside her. There was their daughters’ heartbeat, still loud and constant. Abruptly, she was afraid of the quietness that would come later that day. “I can hear her heartbeat, Peter.”

Peter didn’t say anything, but she could hear his sad intake of breath.

“But I just can’t be a mother.” She could hear the pleading in her own voice, hoping that he would understand. She wished he were there beside her, that he was holding her hand and taking her to the appointment.

 _“That’s okay, Gamora.”_ Peters voice was a whisper. _“I promise. I only want what’s best for you.”_

“And I lied. Nebula didn’t need me. I needed her.”

Peter huffed. _“Really, Gamora?! What happened to us being a team? What’s really going on?”_

“Nebula helped me find books on my species. I needed answers.”

 _“Did you find them?”_ He asked after a beat.

“I thought I knew what I wanted. But my appointment to terminate this is in fifteen minutes. And I’m a mess.”

 _“You’re going to…”_ his voice trailed off.

Silence sat between the two. She didn’t need to clarify. He knew now. Her secret was out in the open. Gamora hadn’t expected Peter to be so kind and gentle with her. She was pregnant and she hadn’t told him. She was going to terminate it without even telling him.

“Why are you being so nice? I thought you’d be angry at me!”

 _“I am angry, Gamora! Fuck, of course I’m angry! But that’s not going to change anything! Is it?!”_ Peter snapped, though there was no unkindness in his voice.

“I called you, didn’t I?” She weakly pointed out. “I didn’t do anything without calling you first.”

 _“But you almost did,”_ Peter sounded just about as broken as she felt.

Almost, she thought. Had she almost betrayed him? Or had it always been in the back of her mind, the knowledge that she would tell him.

 _“I do have one question.”_ Gamora was silent, allowing Peter to continue. _“If you went through with it, if you would’ve terminated it without calling me, would you have ever told me?”_

“I don’t know.” She admitted quietly.

 _“Okay.”_ He sounded resigned, dejected.

“Peter, please,”

 _“I don’t really know what to say.”_ She could hear his voice crack slightly with sadness.

“I need to know,” Gamora took a deep breath, steeling herself for what he might say. “what you want.”

She heard Peter sigh. _“Hell if I know.”_

“I need you to know.”

“Gamora,” Nebula broke the moment the two had created, calling down the ladder. “We have to leave.”

“Just a minute,” she called back, desperation in her voice. It was now or never. She had to decide. “Peter, please,”

_“Gamora, fuck, if you would’ve asked me four days ago, I would’ve said let’s do this, let’s have this baby. We’d be the most badass parents in the entire galaxy. Now, I don’t know. I don’t want it if you don’t.”_

“Her,” Gamora corrected. “It’s a her.”

_“That doesn’t help.”_

“I know.” Gamora sighed. “Believe me, I know.”

“Gamora!” Nebula called again.

“Just a minute, Nebula!”

 _“I’m not going to stop you,”_ Peter told her. She could picture his face, how he must’ve had his face in his hand, his shoulders hunched. _“I wish it were different, sure. I wish I was there with you.”_

That one comment made something warm trickle through her body; Peter still wanted her. She honestly didn’t know if telling him the truth would ruin everything. She realized that to her, there wasn’t another option. He had to know the truth before it was too late. If he still wanted her, well Gamora hadn’t been so sure.

“I wish you were here, too.”

“Gamora, we cannot keep them waiting for-”

“I’m coming, Nebula!” Gamora cut her sister off, rising to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly, her insides were frozen over. “Peter, I’m sorry.” She ended the call before he could answer. There wasn’t anything else to say. She had his support, albeit his unenthusiastic support. She had known that he would want to be a father. She knew he would’ve been a wonderful father. He was kind and funny and loyal and supportive and though he nearly constantly drove her insane, he was too lovable to stay angry at. Their child would’ve had a great, loving father. Their child would’ve also had a distant, damaged mother.

Gamora climbed the ladder quickly, taking two rungs at a time. Nebula stood at the top; her arms crossed over her chest.

“We’re going to be late.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Gamora turned away, heading towards the gangway(ow). Nebula followed, and soon they were out on the streets. They started into a brisk walk, taking wide steps in a hurry. Gamora could feel Nebula’s warmth beside her, and she tried to focus on that. Nebula would stay beside her. Even if she lost both Peter and their baby and all the other Guardians, she would have Nebula.

Her mind wouldn’t stop whirling, playing images of what their child would’ve been like. How she would’ve had Gamora’s green tinted skin, and maybe there would be a curl to her hair like Peter’s. Maybe she would have Peter’s humor or Gamora’s strength and maybe their shared love for Terran music. She could imagine Peter cradling their daughter in his arms, how gentle it would make him look. She could see them training her, chasing her around the _Benatar_ at bedtime, telling her stories of their home planets.

She would’ve been so loved.

If only that was enough.

 

The sisters approached the clinic, having spent the entire walk over in silence. Nebula slide the door open, slinking through the crack, Gamora following closely behind. They made themselves small, blending in with the room. It was a skill they’d learned years and years ago; how to blend into a room when it was necessary. Nebula remained close, their arms brushing where they stood. Gamora checked herself in and followed Nebula towards the corner. Gamora could feel Nebula’s eyes on her, as she glanced back and forth from her lap and back to her sister’s profile. If Gamora hadn’t wanted to be invisible, she would’ve said something childish, snapping at her sister for the annoying staring. She chose to instead stare at her hands in her lap, attempting to focus on the steady fall and rise of her own chest.

She was breathing, until suddenly she wasn’t. Sitting there in the waiting room, waiting to be called back, she was positive her heart stopped. There are several terrifying seconds where she cannot catch her breath. It’s like chocking on her own tongue, her ribs constricting on her heart. Nebula elbowed her harshly, which allowed Gamora to jerk back to consciousness. She took several gasping breaths. She isn’t able to stop herself from quickly standing, facing Nebula.

“I can’t do it,” she continued gasping for air. “I can’t do it, Nebula.”

Nebula stood then too. She leveled her with a look, searching Gamora’s eyes for something.

“Are you sure?”

Gamora could only nod. Nebula stepped into action then, pulling Gamora’s arm through the waiting room and out into the crisp air. The sun of the planet was setting around them, and the on-setting darkness was suddenly terrifying. Sunset meant darkness. There would soon be an enveloped darkness on the planet. There would be no light, just as her soul felt.

Nebula didn’t say a word. Her grip in Gamora’s hand was tight, as she nearly dragged her back to the ship. They walked quickly, and Gamora did her best to breathe. She took shaky, unsure breaths, hoping to calm herself back down. She tried to focus on the sound of Nebula’s steps, and her mechanic breathing. It didn’t do much to stabilize her.

Within minutes, they arrived back at the ship. Gamora followed Nebula aboard the ship, regaining some composure. She paced the gangway, wringing her hands together roughly. She couldn’t believe how distraught she had become. She hadn’t been sure about anything in days. She felt more lost than ever now. Peter wanted to keep their daughter. And she had no idea what she wanted.

Nebula had disappeared, though Gamora hadn’t paid her any mind until there were voices in the distance.

“ _Nebula_?” It was Peter’s voice, confused. And if Gamora wasn’t mistaken, his voice sounded thick like it did when he had been crying. This did nothing to ease her current state. Instead, she felt worse than before.

“Quill,” Nebula’s voice joined the conversation. “She’s losing her sanity. She stopped breathing at the clinic. We had to leave before her procedure. She’s pacing now and her breathing is erratic.”

“ _Let me talk to her_ ,”

“Idiot. That’s why I called.” Nebula was suddenly present in the room once again. Gamora didn’t stop pacing, and she still felt no closer to taking a steadying breath.

“Gamora,” Nebula’s voice sounded distant, despite the fact that they stood only a few feet apart. “It’s Quill,”

“ _Gamora, babe, are you okay?”_ Peter sounded worried. Nebula hissed. _“Okay, okay, bad question. Come on, babe, you’ve gotta breathe.”_

Although she knew Peter couldn’t see her, she shook her head. She couldn’t breathe. The decisions she’d made were swirling all around her. She had let Peter down. She had kept something so big from him. She’d finally made a decision. And then she hadn’t gone through with it. She was still pregnant. She could still hear their daughter’s heartbeat. And she couldn’t breathe.

 _“Gamora, breathe with me,”_ his voice sounded distant as well; as if she was listening to him from underwater. _“Come on, breathe in,”_ he took a shuddering breath. _“And then breathe out.”_

Gamora wanted to listen to him, wanted to calm down, but it seemed impossible. The more she tried, the harder labored her breathing became. There was nothing she could do. Instead, there was only the pit in her throat, making it impossible to breathe or talk.

“Gamora you’ve got to snap out of it,” Nebula cut in. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Gamora’s mind was fuzzy. It was becoming impossible to listen to either Nebula or Peter. She could distantly hear their voices, hear them calling her name. But she was so far away. Her pacing was becoming difficult. Her feet wouldn’t cooperate. Her arms felt heavy. Her vision was cloudy. Nebula’s concerned call for her was the last thing she remembered before passing out.

 

Waking up was slow. Her limbs were tired. Her eyelids were heavy. Her mind was fuzzy. Her mouth was dry. Awareness came slowly, until she was finally aware of the voices around her and the feeling of a leather chair beneath her; Nebula’s copilot chair.

“ _Thank you, Nebula_ ,”

“Helping my sister hardly requires gratitude,”

“ _Yeah, but-”_

“She’s awoken,” Nebula cut Peter off, no doubt hearing Gamora’s steady breathing turn to a more labored pant. “How are you feeling, sister?”

Gamora opened her eyes, allowing the view of vast and open space to calm her down. She silently counted to ten, not wanting to meet eyes with her sister.

 _“Gamora?”_ Peter’s voice was gentle and prodding and Gamora already wanted to leave the conversation. She pressed her lips together and shook her head back and forth. She felt childish, horribly inadequate and marginally uncomfortable.

“You have three minutes to compose yourself,” Nebula instructed. “And then you have to talk.”

Gamora fixed Nebula with a glare she hoped was menacing. Nebula only rolled her eyes, though.

“ _You don’t have to compose yourself,”_ Peter cut in. “ _This is a difficult situation.”_

A sense of gratitude and warmth washed over Gamora. Peter’s love and understanding—even all these years later—was often overwhelming. It did nothing to diminish the feeling of inadequacy that was sticking to every corner of her person.

“I don’t know what to say,” Gamora finally spoke, her voice sounding groggy even in her own ears. “What is there to say?”

“You could start by explaining,” Nebula supplied unhelpfully.

“ _We’re just worried, Gamora. But this has to be your choice. What do you want?”_

What a question. Gamora was vastly unprepared to answer this question. “I have no idea.” She didn’t mean for her voice to come out so chocked up.

“ _What changed your mind? You seemed sure earlier.”_

Another impossible question. She couldn’t figure out what had changed her mind. Had it been Nebula’s kindness and assurance that had she chosen to be a mother she would have the support of her sister? Had it been the excitement in Peter’s voice when she broke the news to him? Or had it been on the walk to the clinic, their daughter’s heartbeat loud in her mind? Or maybe it’d been a decision she’d made in her childhood home, swaddling her baby dolls while her mother prepared a meal? Or the promise that this child would never have the childhood she had suffered through.

Gamora had spent _years_ believing that Thanos had taken this decision away. Not the biological option of this scenario, but the emotional capacity. But hadn’t she thought the same thing about falling in love? Or building a family? Maybe Thanos had taken everything. Maybe she was unfit for this new role. But more importantly, did she even want to try? Thanos hadn’t destroyed her ability to choose.

“ _Is she still there?”_ Peter’s voice was a crude whisper, clearly meant just for Nebula.

“I would tell you if she left, moron,” Nebula snapped back.

“ _Okay, okay,_ ”

“I wish,” Gamora began, digging deeper for the courage to have this conversation. “That I didn’t have to make this decision at all.”

Her life always had a crazy way of shocking her, forcing her into corners she had no idea how to get out of. Although it was easier to do every day, speaking her mind would never be easy. Never something she wanted to do. But here she was, vomiting words and emotions all over the cockpit of the ship.

“That’s not an option,”

“ _Nebula!_ ” Peter admonished.

“What?! This decision is time sensitive.”

“ _Well, yeah, but she doesn’t need that pressure._ ”

“I’m not applying any pressure. I am being realistic.”

“ _I think she realizes-_ ”

“Yeah, and I’m right here.” Gamora cut off their squabble. “If I knew what I wanted, I would’ve already done it.”

“ _Well, you haven’t done anything. Is that a sign?”_

Gamora shrugged. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“ _Nebula, hey, do you mind-”_

Nebula groaned, cutting Peter off. “Fine.”

“ _How do you know what I’m going-”_

“I’m not stupid, Quill. I will leave you two for five minutes. This is _my_ ship.”

“ _Thank you, Nebula, I appreciate you.”_ Before Peter had finished talking, Nebula had passed the holo to Gamora and left the cockpit.

“It’s just us,” Gamora murmured after a beat, holding the holo in her shaking hand. She was disgusted at her own apparent weakness. An infant would be a major weakness. Weaknesses could be used for collateral or revenge or ransom. How could she do that to another person? In their line of work especially. Hadn’t she pledged to guard the galaxy?

“ _Can you talk to me?”_ Peter asked, his voice soft.

“I don’t know what to say, Peter,” she sighed. “How would this even work?”

“ _How have we made any of this work?_ _It’s just what we do,”_

“But our job, the other Guardians,”

“ _We’d figure it out,”_

“Peter, that’s not a very comforting answer.”

Peter huffed out a humorless laugh. “ _I realize that, but it’s kinda all I’ve got._ ”

“I’m conflicted,” Gamora wanted him to understand what she was thinking. “Because I didn’t want to be a mother. But now that the option is here, I wonder if I maybe do.” She didn’t mean to sound so small.

“ _Yeah, that sounds about right,”_ Peter sighed. She could picture him scrubbing his hand across his face, shoulders hunched forward. “ _I’ve never really thought about being a dad. But,”_ his voice trailed off, but she knew exactly what he meant.

Neither spoke for several moments.

“So,” Gamora started. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“ _Rock paper scissors? Vote? Pick a number between one and ten?_ ” The answer was so ridiculous and so Peter that she almost laughed.

“Peter, this is very serious.”

“ _Yeah, but it’s still us. We just kinda roll with the punches,_ ”

“Alright, then what is your vote?”

“ _You first,_ ”

“No, you.” Gamora’s voice was defiant.

“ _Yeah, I knew that wouldn’t work. You wanna sleep on it?_ ”

“I’ve done enough of that.” She’d actually rather not be stuck in her head any longer. “That’s why I called you. I cannot make this decision on my own. I don’t want to,”

“ _Well if you hadn’t run off,”_ Peter chided, but there was no sting behind it, she knew. It was more a passive-aggressive statement of fact that he’d laced with his own sadness. A classic Peter way of saying things.

“It’s been five minutes!” Nebula called from the other room, though she didn’t immediately appear in the doorway.

“Maybe we should hold a vote,” Gamora muttered. “Since everyone’s going to have an opinion.”

“ _You don’t really want that,”_ Peter pointed out annoyingly. And he was right. This had to be her decision.

“I mean we both know what I’m going to choose at this point,”

X

Gamora had no idea how to be someone’s mother. She did not remember her own mother. Often, she clung to the idea of her mother. She remembered her in sensory memories; the smell of their home, the warmth of her hug, the sound of her voice. She’d never asked Nebula about her own mother, nor had she ever thought to ask her other siblings. Thanos had been their parent, there was no reason to be punished for being sentimental over things that were long gone.

So she had no idea what a mother was really like.

But they did have the memory of Peters mother.

As they flew through the galaxy, back to the _Benatar_ , she tried to imagine what the others might say. Without the support of the other Guardians, Gamora didn’t think it was possible. This was their family. She couldn’t lose them; it wasn’t an option.

Nebula hadn’t said much. Instead, she piloted the ship, throwing worried glances at Gamora frequently. It would be annoying if the scenario were any different. Their relationship was so much stronger than she’d ever imagined possible.

“Thank you, Nebula,” Gamora spoke up.

Nebula only nodded, glancing away from the coordinates for a moment. They met eyes, brown eyes meeting black. Gamora knew her sister well enough to read her features.

Maybe Gamora would be okay. Maybe her daughter would be, too.

X

They did not waste any time. Gamora had instructed Peter to gather the Guardians before she arrived. She wanted to have this conversation immediately. Because she still wasn’t positive she wouldn’t run off with Nebula again.

Gamora and Nebula boarded the _Benatar_ , and surely enough the entire team was gathered around. And they were bickering about it.

“I am Groot!” Groot noticed their arrival first, waving at them excitedly. Gamora’s heart both warmed and ached at the same time. Groot was so important to her. She couldn’t lose him or his trust. He was blossoming into a gentle and courageous young person and she was still baffled and grateful to have had a part in it.

“Gamora, Nebula, how was the mission?” Drax asked.

“Fine,” Nebula answered for them both, stalking across the ship to where everyone was standing together. Gamora followed behind slowly, standing beside Peter.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking down at her. She met his gaze, and he searched her eyes for a sign. She just nodded, turning to their family standing before them.

Gamora wasn’t sure if she was breathing. Peter was standing her side, and it was warm where they were touching. The rest of the team stood before them, and Gamora chose not to meet eyes with anyone. She had felt sure about her decision up until moments ago. Now, she was afraid. (And so positively done with her insecurities.) Chocking down fear kept her occupied until Peter finally spoke up.

“So, guys,” Peter started, his voice full of more bravery than Gamora could muster. “Gamora’s pregnant. With a baby girl.”

“What do you guys think?” Gamora asked before anyone could react, still not allowing herself to take a deep breath. “Should we do this?”

“Why the hell not?!” Rocket sounded exasperated. “We raised Groot just fine. What’s one more. Fuck knows we could use a bigger team.”

More than anything, Gamora could hear what he wasn’t saying; the words that were hiding between what he had spoken aloud; ‘If it makes you happy. We’ll all do our best.’

Gamora glanced up from Rocket, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She turned her gaze to Peter, finding him looking much the same.

“I would be honored,” Drax began, his normally booming voice taking a softer tone. “To be part of raising another daughter.”

“I’ve always wanted a sister!” Mantis exclaimed.

“Niece,” Peter corrected, but when Mantis looked confused, he just shrugged. “Sisters fine, too.”

“I am Groot.” Gamora had to blink back tears, and the urge to walk over and wrap her arms around the young sapling.

“Nebula?” Peter prompted. She had her arms crossed, though she wasn’t glaring. She looked surprising pleasant.

“You are both foolish. But I do not disagree with this.”

“So, it’s settled then.” Peter smiled down at Gamora, and she sore she had never been more happy and terrified at the same time. “I guess we’re having a baby.”

X

Gamora thought it would get easier; that she’d feel relieved or _happy._ Which, it’s not that she’s unhappy. More that her thoughts keep her up into all of hours of the night. The what-if scenarios were exhausting her.

When she stayed awake through their sleep cycle, Peter sat beside her. In the dim lighting of their room, she could barely make out his fluttering eyelashes. He was stubborn—something she loved about him—refusing to sleep if she wouldn’t. (The previous several nights she’d tried pretending, but it had only worked a couple of times. He was exceptionally more perceptive than she gave him credit for.)

That particular night found them sitting against the headboard together. Their fur blanket sat in their laps, and Gamora had a hand against her still flat stomach. There were no physical signs of her pregnancy just yet, but the pair had still eagerly been keeping track.

She secretly loved that Peter kept her company. Somehow he always knew.

Gamora broke the silence, whispering in the darkness, “I know that people across the galaxy raise children. But those people weren’t raised by Thanos.”

When Peter speaks, his voice sounds sleepy and heavy and so sweet, as he tells her, “We’re not most people. She’ll have a family. And she will be loved.” He spoke around a yawn, and her chest softened. He was so dear to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know this a crazy mess, but I hope it was somewhat enjoyable. Thank you for reading, it means a lot to me. Please also take the time to let me know what you thought. Reviews make my entire week. Also, I would love to make new friends so please come and chat with me on tumblr at stunningstarmora.


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